The other day the kids and I were talking and something came up about the way people talk. More specifically, words and/or phrases that almost represent different dialects in different parts of our country. Some examples:
* Is it a "purse" or a "pocketbook". I, personally, have always carried a "purse" while my Jersey-born best friend from senior year in high school, always had to grab her "pocketbook" before we headed out to the mall.
* Is it a "sofa" or a "couch"? Or, for those of you who live in a pretentious East coast town, a "davenport"? My family had a hideous "couch" for years, with a large floral print in various shades of red, yellow, brown and orange. I miss that atrocity.
* Do you go on "vacation" or "holiday"? HAHA! Just kidding. That was for all the Brits out there.
* In our house we drink "pop" but you might drink "soda". Same diff.
* Do you eat a "cookie" or a "biscuit"? Just kidding again! More Brit humor.
* I, personally, wear "pants" but some people wear "slacks".
* To me, a "sweater" is an article of clothing made out of some type of thick knit, cashmere, rayon, acrylic or wool, that has substance and a bit of fuzziness. It's is not a "sweatshirt" which is made of fleece and looks much more casual.
* I wear "shirts" but old people wear "blouses". Hee hee.
* Shoes are a whole 'nother ball game. I like to refer to mine by brand, as in "where are my Danskos?" or more randomly as in "my brown flats". However, if they have an impressive name, I'll toss that around. My "sparkly black TOMS" and such.
* Which brings me to the shoes you wear for athletic purposes (or not for athletic purposes but you enjoy looking like you actually break a sweat now and then). Are they "sneakers"? "Tennis shoes"? "Nikes" (or other brand)? I have always called them "tennis shoes" but realize as I get older how completely stupid that sounds since I have never played tennis except for that one time my ex-husband signed me up for tennis lessons in a local park where I flailed about and discovered I had zero aerobic capacity in my lungs and virtually no hand-eye coordination. But I don't wanna talk about it.
* In the eighties, we called them "stretch pants" or, even more fun, "stirrups". A few decades later, we've lost the stirrups and now have an array of "leggings" which are a tighter, less-structured version of "yoga pants" which translates to "fat pants". Let's be real. Once a woman has experienced pregnancy and it's array of stretchy, forgiving apparel, who ever wants to go back to jeans? In an attempt to cover up our laziness and prevent incessant stomach holding-in, the industry has created all manner of stretchy "workout" wear that doubles as acceptable fashion while sipping a latte or shopping for groceries. God bless them.
* We call it "butter" in our house, even if it's a spread "high in plant stenols" called Smart Balance. (Shh...we also use real butter!). Inexplicably, my mom still enjoys saying "oleo" from time to time.
* And, just for fun, I'll throw in a little Seattle humor. I've always, my entire life, referred to the watery substance that falls from the sky as "rain" but here in Seattle it's often referred to as "showers", "partial showers", "precipitation", "rain showers", "chance rain", "accumulation", "misting" and, my recent favorite to describe freezing rain, "a wintry mix".
You say tomato, I say to-MAH-to. Except I don't. And who really does? Oh yeah, the Brits. I love them!